


Pictures of us

by Ravendor_Neera



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon Universe, Drunk Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, First War with Voldemort, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Growing Up Together, Major Original Character(s), Marauders, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Moving On, Musical References, My First Work in This Fandom, POV Alternating, POV Original Female Character, POV Remus Lupin, POV Sirius Black, Personal Growth, Post-First War with Voldemort, Post-Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Post-Second War with Voldemort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, References to Depression, Second Chances, Second War with Voldemort, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:00:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23229775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ravendor_Neera/pseuds/Ravendor_Neera
Summary: The end of the First War and Voldemort's defeat brought peace and happiness in the Wizard community.To Jane Goldfeather, however, that peace meant the loss of all she held dear: her best friends died, her hopes and dreams were destroyed and her love betrayed, all within one night.Only Remus is left and the two friends can only try their best to heal their broken souls and live their lives...Until the past comes back and another storm gathers.- A story that spans from the Marauder Era to post Second Wizarding War.A story of love, friendships, growth and second chances.Courtesy of a giant record player and a mind camera-
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added, Remus Lupin/Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin/Original Female Character(s), Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	1. First Year- Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!!  
> I've had this in mind for a long time. I finally found the courage to write it and I hope you like it! It's my first fic! *_* OMG
> 
> I've found I am more confident if I explore other authors' stories with the help and major POV of an OC instead of diving fully into canonical characters (I don't know, it's just so. I'm practicing anyway) so there will be one among the protagonists. 
> 
> Any feedback and comments are appreciated, so leave one if you feel!  
> English is not my first language, I'm really doing my best and I hope the language is ok! 
> 
> Also, I want to thank Kittheworthy for writing "Break", a great fic that sort of gave me the final kick to try and write mine. It's beautiful, check it out!

**Chapter 1**

**_First Year- Introductions_ **

On the threshold of Hogwarts, Jane was still amazed by the view of the castle from the lake: all lit up, towering over the dark water, a huge shape with glowing windows, some large and clearly discernible, others mere yellow dots on a black background. She had heard stories in her family and of course she had seen pictures of Hogwarts, but seeing it like this for the first time in person, it sent thrills down her stomach. She felt so glad and so ready for this new adventure, whatever may come… 

-“Bring it on”, she whispered as she passed through the doors of the main entrance with all the other first year students. 

A stern looking woman with a tartan gown and a pointed hat with one single long feather was standing at the top of a staircase in front of a huge wooden portal and looked down at them.

-“Thank you Hagrid, I’ll take it from here” she said to the tall man in boiled leather vest. He nodded, waved goodbye to the kids and strode off. “Good evening to you all. My name is Minerva McGonagall. I will be your Transfiguration teacher and for tonight my duty is to escort you to the Sorting Ceremony. Behind these doors, the rest of the school is waiting for you, but first you will be sorted into your house. Please, follow me.” 

She turned and the huge doors opened. The Great Hall was impressively tall, spacious and solemn. Two long tables stood on either side of the central isle, decorated with the colours of their Houses. The other students had already sat and were now looking at them. The group followed Professor McGonagall down the central isle to the end of the hall, where a set of steps led to a dais where the rest of the teachers and the Headmaster sat in silence. A stool had been placed at the top of the staircase and a hat stood on it. So that was the famous Sorting Hat... It looked quite the relic, all tattered and worn out.

The Sorting started as soon as McGonagall had instructed them about what to do and after the Hat had sung a little song about the Houses and the founders. McGonagall started calling them in alphabetical order. She felt a wave of anxiety mixed with excitement. She looked at her left to the boy she had met on the train and they exchanged an encouraging smile. Remus Lupin was his name. They had kept close to each other, as a natural result of a train journey spent talking. She had found him in the compartment, reading a book. He was sitting near the window and the first thing Jane thought was that he looked fragile, somehow. Pale, thin, with a bit of blue marks under his eyes and scars on his hands and his neck. At first she didn’t want to intrude on his reading, she considered it rude, so they just introduced themselves. She had brought a book to read, too, so for a while they sat in silence, reading. When the woman with the trolley passed by, they both bought some candy and she asked what he was reading, just to try and chat a bit. She really _was_ a bit eager to meet new people and she thought that was a good way to try. Turned out he was reading _The Old Curiosity Shop_ , a muggle book she had loved, so they ended up talking for the rest of the journey. Jane thought he was nice, soft-spoken and polite and that she liked his smile, which always seemed to be somewhat apologetic. She wondered how he got all those scars. Could have been anything but she suspected it involved animals, as the scars looked quite like claw marks. She had seen that kind of wounds many time. Her family bred hippogriffs, eagles and other birds of prey and supervised a sanctuary for gryphons on account of the Ministry. She had earned a couple of such scars herself…

-“Goldfeather, Jane Charlotte!” Professor McGonagall called out.

Jane stood frozen on the spot for a brief second. What if she didn’t end up in Gryffindor? What if she was sorted into Ravenclaw instead? Or, and she felt her stomach sinking, in Slytherin? She had just realised that no matter how old the family tradition was, you could always be surprised by the Hat. That Black boy, for example, he had become a Gryffindor merely five minutes before. Loud whispering had run across the hall and a girl with chestnut hair at the Slytherin table had shouted a loud “No way!”, looking shocked but amused at the same time. For what Jane knew, the Blacks had been Slytherins for as long as it could be remembered. So… what of her? She glanced sideways at Remus, who smiled at her. She smiled back, took a breath and stepped out of the small crowd of first years. She climbed the steps towards the Hat. 

_-“Come on-_ she told herself – _your family has been in Gryffindor for ever! It’s gonna be fine! You are as good as a descendant!”_

This wasn’t exactly true. There was no real evidence of her family actually descending from the Gryffindors or Godric himself. Only, they came from the West Country, like the founder, and with that breeding tradition which dated back for at least a couple of centuries her family had earned the nickname of “The Griffins”. They were also all Gryffindors. Thus, people joked saying that they might as well have sprung from a relative of Godric or he himself. Nobody really knew. They didn’t care for blood status so there was no real records of their lineage. It would have been a joke if the youngest of the Griffins ended up in Slytherin or Hufflepuff… Ravenclaw maybe could still be acceptable. Did her family even care so much? They had never really discussed this topic.

She was now near the stool. She shook away those thoughts and tried to look resolute. She sat on the stool and a moment later the Hat fell on her eyes and all went black. 

_-Oh hey! A Goldfeather girl!_

She felt some relief at the cheerful tone of the Hat.

_-Worried, huh?_ -he asked.

- _Quite_ \- she thought in reply.

- _Ah! Why? Yes, there’s a whole big smart brain here, I’ll tell you. Very smart and refined, that’s often the case with Goldfeathers, but not always… Well, your place from what I see is most definitely GRYFFINDOR!”_

The Hat shouted the last word and she smiled. Professor McGonagall lifted the Hat off her head and she hurried down the stairs to the Gryffindor table, where she was greeted with cheers and a handshake from both Prefects and Head Boy and Head Girl. She sat down next to a red-haired girl who had been sorted shortly before her, Evans was her name, if she remembered well. The girl introduced herself: 

-“I’m Lily! Nice to meet you!” They shook hands, smiling. A hand darted across Lily, who leaned back with an annoyed look, and Jane saw it was Black. She briefly shook it. 

-“Sirius, right?” she asked, lowering her voice as the Hall became quiet again.

He nodded, bright grey eyes looking happy, then they focused back on the Sorting. A Corinne Lavelle became a Ravenclaw, then it was Remus’ turn and Jane hoped he would be a Gryffindor, too. He walked to the Hat looking extremely nervous, she thought he was getting paler with every step. When he sat on the stool he closed his eyes, looking somewhat resigned, shaking a little. The Hat, tough, was really fast. He cried out “GRYFFINDOR!” after barely five seconds. Jane cheered with the rest of the table. He came and sat on the bench near her, eyes closed, looking relieved. After a quick round of greetings, Jane patted him on the shoulder.

-“Hello again, then! Nice we are in the same house!”

He smiled at her, a broad, genuine smile that reached up to his hazel eyes, and nodded. He seemed so overwhelmed with relief that was unable to speak for a while.

As the sorting drew to the end, their part of the table filled with new students and when it was over and the Headmaster had delivered his welcome speech (weird one Dumbledore, in fact. Her cousin Edward was right), their table filled with trays full of every possible food.

Halfway through the first course she was already giddy with the joy, the cheers, the loud chatter and names and faces of everyone. From the other side of the table a voice called her and forced her away from a conversation with Lily:

-“Goldfeather! Hey! Goldfeather!” A boy with spectacles and unruly dark hair was waving at her. She smiled and waved back.

-“Hi, Potter!” 

-“Long time no see! How is that old gryphon of yours?”

-“Devon is still fine” she replied, smiling. “Grandpa says he is like wine and gets better with age.”

-“A gryphon?- Black intruded, looking at Jane with inquiring grey eyes. - _You_ have a gryphon? How can it be? It’s illegal!”

-“My family manages the only sanctuary in the country. It’s approved from the Ministry. We mostly leave them be, hiding them from Muggles and only tend to them if they need any specific care, but Devon has a different story and, to cut it short, is very fond of my grandfather. He’s basically a pet.”

Sirius’ eyes lit up.

-“Oh, a sanctuary… I heard of something like that. You are farmers of sort…”

-“Breeders” Jane replied, suddenly cold. Who did he think he was? Calling people ‘farmers of sort’ without even knowing them.

-“Also, the Goldfeathers use mail eagles instead of owls!” added James, with a knowing smile over his second plate of beef pie.

-“Really?” said Sirius.

-“Wait until I get mail, then you’ll see” replied Jane simply. This time it was Remus’ turn to speak, pointing out gently: 

-“But you didn’t have any cage with you on the train.”

Jane shrugged:

-“You can’t really cage an eagle, you know…” she replied.

After the dinner, as they were heading to their common room trailing after the Prefects, Lily asked Jane if she already knew many of their fellow students.

-“No, not really- she replied. -I only knew Potter because we’ve met some times before. Trading business matters. They are from our area and his father buys ingredients for potions from my family. You know, hippogriff feathers, eagle feathers and claws and such… We breed them, so we sell a lot of those things… But James and I mostly played Quidditch while our parents were busy bargaining.”

Lily nodded, but looked unsure.

-“I have one friend. It’s Severus Snape, he was sorted in Slytherin. We met Potter and Black on the train, but they were rude.” She furrowed her brow. “Anyway, Sev told me a lot of things about the wizarding world, but I figure there are still so much I need to know. I have no idea what an hippogriff is!” she laughed a little.

Jane reassured her with a smile:

-“Don’t worry, you’ll catch up sooner than you think!”

\----

A couple of mornings later, a huge, golden-brown eagle entered the Great Hall among the other mail owls, causing many cries of surprise and hands stretched out to point it. Jane quickly stood up and moved a little away from the bench and the table where she was having breakfast with her fellow students. The eagle gave a screech and landed on Jane’s outstretched arm. There was a little cylindrical packet attached to her leg and an envelope. Jane smiled in the direction of the table. Many students were looking at her but she meant it for Remus. 

She went back to sit and the eagle climbed off the arm to stand on the table. It was a big, beautiful animal. 

-“Say hi to Cymru, guys!” she said, cheerfully. 

Remus eyes brightened:

-“You named it after Wales!”

-“Yes, but this is my parents’ eagle. Mine is called Eire. She’s probably out there in the forest, somewhere. You can pet him, if you want. Just don’t give him food. He’s greedy.”

While Remus carefully petted the eagle on his neck, she untied the packet from his leg. It was a letter from her parents. They congratulated to her for her sorting and asked about her new classmates and whether she already had some new friends. They also enclosed a picture of the whole family “… _So you won’t miss us too much!”_. Her father, Robert, his wiry hair and beard a warm auburn colour, and her mother, Ethel, with her long brown braid and smiling green eyes were standing in the middle of it, waving. Next to them, on the left, stood her grandpa Kenver. He had long, snow-white hair tied in a pony tail with feathers attached to it, a broad smile and amber and green eyes that looked almost bicoloured, just like Jane’s. On the right side of her parents stood her uncle Derwyn, who was a Welsh muggle-born, tall and a little lanky, with fiery ginger hair. He had his hands on aunt Chesten’s shoulders. She was short and thin and had long blond hair. They were also waving and were surrounded by their three sons: Ifan, Michael and Edward. Ifan, the eldest, was ten years older than she was and Edward, the youngest, had graduated from Hogwarts the previous year. Her cousins had all taken after the Goldfeather side and Ifan and Michael had the same dark honey-blond hair that grandpa had before going all white, the same as Jane’s; Edward had auburn hair and green eyes. Only Jane had inherited grandpa’s peculiar eyes. In the back, towering above them all, stood Devon. She noticed Lily peeking at the picture, so she gave it to her to look. She probably had never seen a gryphon before.

-“See, this is Devon. He is old, so his feathers and mane are growing white a bit, but he’s still strong” she explained. 

Lily looked intently at the picture and gaped in awe. In the picture, Devon was looking in camera with his yellow, keen eyes and his lion tail was whipping the air. Every now and then, he shook his eagle head and opened the beak and Jane knew by heart the low, growling sounds he would make.

-“Pass it here, Jane!” called out Potter. “We want to see the gryphon!”

-“Just wait a sec!” she replied. Lily was still observing the picture.

-“So, you are all wizards in your family? Everyone can do magic?” Lily asked and Jane nodded. “Is your family what they call ‘pureblood’? Severus told me about these things…” Lily continued.

-“The Goldfeathers probably are a pureblood family, right? The name should be quite ancient…” intruded Potter, spreading jam on a piece of toast.

-“They are not” replied Black, rather brusquely.

Jane laughed, a little nervous.

-“Merlin, no! Never really cared much for blood purity” she said. “Grandpa says it’s all trollshit. We just have the habit of letting both men and women pass the family name, if needs be, so it has never died out. Also, we’ve always had a wizard or a witch in some branch of the family.”

-“Yeah, we don’t care much either, I think” said Potter, “but my family is pureblood. Can I see the picture now?”

Jane gave the picture a last fond glance. Despite it being mute, she could feel all of the noise and laughter and bickering they must have made to decide how to stand and where and “ _Robert stop shouting, she won’t hear you, it’s a picture!”, “Edward don’t make vulgar signs!”, “Oh, please Grandpa leave the chicks, this is already too crowded!”_ and _“Of course, Devon, you should be here, too!”_ … She had a loud, hearty family.

-“Wait for your turn” she told James, and slid it to Remus.

She noticed Black had an indecipherable look in his grey eyes. Jane hoped he didn’t feel offended by her statement. While the picture was passing from hand to hand because everyone around her wanted to see the gryphon, she opened the packet. Inside there was a dark tawny feather, with copper reflexes, around ten inches long, and a note from her grandfather:

_“This is Devon’s. He is shedding and he thought you should have one before they become all too grey or white. You know he’s a bit melodramatic, but I agree that he may be as white as me in a couple of sheds. Keep it to remind about your old grandpas there while you enjoy the best years of your life, as I’m sure they will be. Fly high, Jane. Always._

_Love, Grandpa and Devon.”_

Jane was trying really hard not to cry. It was going to be really difficult not to miss them now with all these reminders, but she knew they meant well. She caressed the feather, her heart swelling with affection. Then she looked up to check what had become of her picture and saw Potter had it and he was holding it with hands dangerously sticky of marmalade while Black pointed at it with equally greasy fingers and a mouthful of toast.

-“Potter, may I have my picture back?”

-“Just a second. I want to see the gryphon with his wings spread!”

-“You can wait ages then, Devon knows he can’t do that inside the house. Please, give it back.” Jane was getting impatient. 

-“You keep it inside?” asked Black.

-“Not really, he comes and goes as he pleases. Picture, please.”

Black looked at the picture one last time, a curious frown on his face, then took it from Potter and unceremoniously slid it back to her. Then he saw the feather in her hand. 

-“Is that from your gryphon’s?”

-“Yes, grandpa sent it as a gift.”

-“How sweet. Are you going to braid it in your hair, too, like the shamans of America? You all look kind of weird there…” he said.

-“That’s rude, Black- replied Jane, irritated- We just have traditions… By the way, you have mail, too. Why don’t you mind your own?”

He cast a quick glance at the envelope that a large grey owl had left near his plate and snorted. Jane noticed the elaborate wax seal with the Black coat of arms on it and the thin, elegant cursive writing: _Sirius Orion Black_.

-“Because making fun of yours is more entertaining” replied the boy with a defiant smile, taking the letter away from the table.

Jane felt vexation rise: 

-“Oh, is it? Pray, tell: do your parents call you by your full name?” She snapped back. “‘ _Seerius Ooreon Black come he-er! Hew are you toda-eh?’_ ” She pressed on, mocking the upper class accent of the boy. “Then _we_ are the weird ones…”

-“Mind your business, Goldfeather. Enjoy your cheesy picture” was the bitter reply. Then he stood up, crumpling the letter in his hand and walked out of the Hall.

Later in the term, James told her that Black’s parents had been somewhat disappointed with his sorting. His cousin Narcissa, who was in sixth year had come to speak to him that evening and he had come back looking very upset, barely talking to anyone in the dorm. That explained the sullen mood the boy was clearly still in the following days. James said Sirius wasn’t very keen about the topic, so he asked her to pretend she didn’t know anything. She instantly regretted her words of mock but she didn’t say anything to Black and decided to avoid the topic as much as possible.


	2. First Year- Bonding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will update without a precise timing but I will try to be as consistent as I can!

**Chapter 2**   
  


_**First-Year: Bonding** _

Several weeks into term, Jane could say she was having a really good time at Hogwarts. She was nice to everyone, but she wasn’t afraid of speaking her mind. She was well liked by teachers, she was smart and generally well mannered, although not very docile and she could be stubborn and strong headed. She had lost several points to Gryffindor arguing with teachers or disobeying during lessons. At that time her main interests were animals, Quidditch, books and music. The subjects she liked most were Care of Magical Creatures, of course, Charms and Transfiguration. Like many other children of wizard families, she was very good at flying on a broomstick and found the lessons extremely boring so she often ended up racing Potter around the yard, challenging each other to different stunts until Professor Hooch gave them both a week detention. That marked the first of many trophy-cleaning and brooms-tending detentions to come. She was quite a tomboy, as she had grown up playing (and fighting) with her cousins and animals, and for that reason she went along well with both boys and girls but she felt more at ease with boys, as they usually wore their heart on their sleeves and she felt were less prone to backstabbing and talking behind people’s back. That said, she could call herself lucky as far as her dorm mates was concerned. There was Lily, who was kind but also very determined and passionate and very soon proved to be very talented with magic; Dorcas, who was silent and studious, wore big, round glasses and seemed impossible to beat at chess; then there was Marlene, who was fun and outspoken, had quite a Scottish accent, but often talked to herself (and swore) in Gaelic and had a great sense of humour. They all bonded very soon over evenings spent chatting and sharing their passion for music and muggle movies and literary heroes. Soon they were borrowing accessories and clothes from each other until they decided to put everything they wanted to share in a charmed box. By Halloween they had to refresh the extension charm to make it bigger. As the rules had them wear the same black robes most of the days, most girls put extra care in styling their hair, using accessories and ribbons, or in make up, provided it wasn’t too bold. Jane was not much interested in either and she rarely did anything else than gathering her smooth, long hair in a high pony tail but her mother was a hairdresser, so she knew how to style hair and make quite complicated braids. Lily liked hairbands to keep her thick hair in place, she had a full straight-across bang so hairbands looked well on her but she started asking Jane to braid it every now and then, soon followed by Marlene and the voice somewhat spread in the female dormitory so older girls would come up to ask her for up-dos and braids. Some offered to pay for it but she always refused, feeling somewhat embarrassed at the idea. To her, it was just enough they would return the favour in the first occasion in whatever way it suited them. It could be good to have the older girls’ favour. First years’ tended to be mistreated by older students. She wasn’t afraid of standing up to them, but being well liked didn’t harm. That was especially true considered the fact that she liked to spend quite some time with the boys of her year: Potter and Black proved to be real troublemakers and even if she would join them in pulling pranks at times, she preferred to keep on the quieter side. They could be really stupid in ways that only eleven-year-old boys could be and, while she liked Potter because he was exactly like that, very straight-forward, foolish and fun although a bit self-centred and spoilt, she found it harder to decipher Sirius. His countenance varied from haughty and distant to open and hearty. She had learnt to accept his presence as an inevitable side effect of Potter’s company, because they had become inseparable. Several other quarrels followed that first one at breakfast, mostly minor bickering that dissolved within a day, but sometimes they ended up not talking for days, usually until something more important came up, like a prank that needed joint effort or a very hard study session. But her favourite was Remus. Whenever there was a chance they would sit in classes together and they often studied in the library together with the other girls or Peter, the fourth boy of their year: a shy, plump kind whom Remus helped out with homework. Jane loved the company of Remus because he was really smart and shared her passion for muggle novels and had good taste in music, and she liked his quiet but humorous disposition. She found out he wasn’t as fragile as he looked sometimes. He could lift a pile of heavy books without much effort and the one time a third year tried to bully him out of the armchair near the fireplace in the common room snatching the book from his hands, he held on to the book and pulled it back to his chest, dragging the boy along and, with a foot right in the boy’s chest, he pushed him away and went back to read without saying a word but shot him a glance that verged on the dangerous. Other times he was as weak and fragile as he looked, and he swayed if he stood up too fast and was out of breath after a short flight of stairs. He was often ill, in fact, and he missed a lot of classes. His mother was also very ill, so at times he had to skip more classes to go home to visit her. Jane was sad for that and thought it was too much bad luck for a single family. 

Thus the term ended and Jane went home for the Christmas holidays and excitedly told her family everything about school and her new friends. They owled each other presents, mostly sweets and candies and small inexpensive things but Jane really was glad that they all thought about her. Lily sent her a nice bookmark with the muggle mail and even Sirius sent a packet of pumpkin pasties, her favourites. She hadn’t really expected anything from him, as the holidays had begun right after one of their bickering where they ended up not talking. She wondered if that was ever going to change.

\-----

It was just a matter of time, though. And trust. 

One day around the last weeks of January, during Potions, Slughorn declared that he would now change the pairs every two months so that they could learn to work along with new people. Jane ended up with Sirius. The pupils were tasked with a hair growing potion and Jane set the book up to better read the procedure. Black had been in a grumpy mood from the morning. She decided to try and be nice to not aggravate the situation. 

-“Could you please chop these stems while I crush these claws?” she asked.

He mumbled something, but started doing it. He did it in an awful way, though.

-“Black, you butchered the stems. These bits are too big” she pointed out, trying not to sound too annoyed. 

-“It’s just the same…”

-“It’s not! They’ll need more time to cook and the rest of the ingredient will simmer for too long! Potions require precision!” She took the chopping board from his hands and tried to make smaller bits. He sat back looking like he couldn’t really give a toss.

-“We are supposed to work together. Please, be a little collaborative.” She tried to sound encouraging. 

With some coaxing, a little pleading and too much arguing in Jane’s opinion, they managed to brew the potion. It was almost the right colour and it had the right smell.

-“Well, we should scrape a sufficiency…” Jane muttered mostly to herself, stroking the feather she had actually attached to her pony tail while looking down in the cauldron. They were waiting their turn to be checked by Slughorn who was now four desks ahead. “I hope this is not how the next two months will look like in Potions with you, Black.” She shot him a dark look. He was leaning back on the chair, still looking like he couldn’t care less of grades, potions and her hopes. She rolled her eyes and turned to the class, toying with her feather. When Slughorn arrived, his smile dropped a little when he saw the brew. He declared it could have been better, as they had both already proved to be good students. He tried a couple of drops on an egg and after a minute or so, a soft, sparse, white fur grew on it. 

-“See? It’s a little too weak, you probably overcooked some ingredients and the hair is white. You forgot to choose a colour and to add the ingredient for it. This could go for some old person with little expectations…”. They scraped an A.

Slughorn had moved on. Jane started to clean her tools while Black tossed his book in his bag. While she bent to extinguish the flame under the cauldron, her feather fell on the floor. She didn’t notice, though, and went to put the clean tools and board back to the class cabinet. When she came back to their table she saw Black with her feather in hand, looking down in the cauldron. Instinctively she checked her hair and saw it was indeed gone.

-“Thanks, it must have fallen down.” She stretched out a hand but the boy didn’t hand it back.

-“I wonder what would happen if we use it. The book said to add eagle plumes for a brown colour…” he had a mischievous look on his face.

-“That’s not a plume and not an eagle’s. And it’s not for use. It’s a present. Give it back.” She motion to snatch it from his hands but he quickly dropped it in the cauldron. The potion started to bubble, then to foam, it turned a foul green and then swell in a big bubble that popped a second later, splattering mostly on Jane’s face and robe. Soon afterwards, her hair turned the same foul green and became thicker and longer, like it was made of twigs or straw, then something that looked like moss started to cover her face. Black looked like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to worry, but in the end a grin emerged on his lips and he burst into laughter. Jane heard Slughorn coming their way but she didn’t think straight, she was furious. 

-“You idiot!” 

She threw herself at him and slapped him hard across the face. He stumbled back and she slapped him again, clawing at his cheek. He tried to snatch her hands but he lost balance so they fell on the floor in a tangle of robes, mossy hair and limbs. He was fighting back but Jane had no issues with that. When her cousins pulled her pranks sometimes things were settled with physical fights, much to their parents’ dismay. Potter jumped to them and pulled Jane away tugging at the still growing twig-hair, Slughorn arrived and stood in the middle, asking what for Merlin’s sake had happened. Jane had a cracked lip that was bleeding but Black bled from his nose and had a bruise forming in the shape of her hand on his cheek. Jane tried to explained but in the end Slughorn took 20 points each and gave them both a detention.

-“You should never mix ingredients randomly, Mr. Black. Worse things than this can happen and Goldfeather, you are forbidden to bring any extra or unauthorized ingredients in my class. And then, fighting like cat and dog like that! Unacceptable! Now go to Madame Pomfrey to fix that mess. I’ll see you on Wednesday at 18 pm here for detention.”

Detention consisted in tidying up the large ingredient cabinet, taking out all the vials and jars, dusting it and then putting them back in alphabetical order. The same was to be done with the instruments’ cabinet. They hadn’t spoken to each other since the class, so they set down to it in silence. Slughorn went to his office after a while and came back to check on them every now and then. 

Jane was really upset because she couldn’t really understand him. And her feather was gone. She could ask for another, but the injustice of it still remained.

At some point she stopped scrubbing the shelf, looked at the boy and asked: 

-“Black, why did you do that?”

He looked up at her then shrugged.

-“There’s not a precise reason… I was curious to see what would happen.”

-“And you put ourselves in danger and burned my feather just for this? It’s incredibly stupid and irresponsible!” She was heating up again. He sat back, staring at the shelf, he seemed to be brooding over something. 

-“I did it without thinking.”

-“It’s not a good thing” she retorted. 

-“That’s what Remus says, too” he made an awkward smile.

-“He’s right!”

-“Well, that’s how I am. Probably I really _am_ wrong…” he fixed his grey eyes, full of bitterness, on her for a moment. Then he looked down. She heard him murmur, very low: “ _Disgrace_ …”

-“Nah, you are just rash…” she replied. “But you are eleven, you have a right to be, we all have.”

-“I turned twelve in November” he specified.

Jane rolled her eyes:

-“Sorry, I forgot. Doesn’t change much. You are still not wrong.”

-“I wouldn’t be so sure…”

-“Who says that?”

-“At home…” He let it drop for a while, then spoke on. “Also… Actually, I may have been a bit… envious, and… frustrated, maybe. Your family in that picture, the letters you keep getting… they are such small things and yet you seem so happy for them. I feel like this with James, too, bit he’s my best friend, so…”

-“So it’s easier to take it out on me?” she heated up again.

Black sighed, then looked at her and in his grey eyes there was no trace of defiance or coldness.

-“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it over. I feel… I know I am an idiot…”

-“Hell yeah you can be!” Jane felt she should have been mad still but she realised the boy had never looked so helpless in front of her before. 

She shifted her tone a bit: “You should not talk so bad about yourself” she said, calming down. “Yes, you are rash and you can be a bit of a prick sometimes, but you are not a disgrace. Come on! What a word… for so little!” A smile formed on her lips and she added, lightly: “Ah, and sometimes you behave like a posh arse with a stiff upper lip but, hey, nobody’s perfect. Still: not a disgrace.”

He made a little snort, a hint of a smile on his face:

“You should meet my mother…”

-“Is it her that says you are disgraceful?”

-“All of them…”

Jane felt at a loss.

-“I’m sure they don’t mean it…”

-“They mean everything they say” he replied. 

Jane felt she was missing a piece there, but she wasn’t really angry with him anymore. She felt sorry for him.

-“I accept your apology- she told him, -although I can’t say I understand why you would be envious.”

He sighed. He seemed to be pondering an answer, clear eyes fixed on the shelf. Jane dropped her rag and sat in silence, waiting.

“Before Hogwarts, I never actually spent time with other children than my brother and my cousins or other family friends.” He kept his eyes on the wooden boards, nervously twitching the damp cloth he had used to scrub them. “I knew there were much different families around, but I had never had much to do with them… Then I came here and met James and you and all the others in our house and I realised you all were just… fine, cool. Nothing wrong in my opinion. I grew up being constantly reminded that my family is ancient, one of the most noble of the _Sacred Twenty Eight_ and hearing all sorts of ill things about muggle-borns and half-blood families and how we are the real keepers of magical traditions and we should defend magical legacy from being tainted.” He recited these words as if by heart, with a flat tone. “And yet, I am surrounded by good, decent people, good at magic, some with families almost as ancient as ours, like you, some even pureblood, like James, and I don’t see why they should be any worse than myself or my family just because they don’t care about lineage. Then… You saw James’ parents when they came to pick him at the platform for Christmas. They were so happy to see him and he threw himself at them, remember? His mother couldn’t stop hugging and kissing him. I honestly don’t remember the last time my mother kissed me. She keeps saying how proud we should make the family and I can have anything I want, provided it’s nothing muggle, but these past months I realised she hardly ever praised us, well _me_ in particular, but she’s always ready to point out our faults. If we do something good, it’s our duty, it’s right so, but if we do wrong, we are a disgrace. Always cold, distant… They _do_ call me by my full name, by the way, you know? I’ve always had a feeling something was… odd, but I thought it was just me, you know, the odd one… the black sheep…” He chuckled. “But then I saw James and you and Remus… your families are so easy going, relaxed…” He was searching for a word.

-“Loving?” she suggested. She felt embarrassed and sorry.

-“Yes, loving. And I felt puzzled for months. So either everybody is wrong or it’s my family that’s trollshit.” He looked at her, the hint of a smile. “This Christmas at home was awful. We kept arguing and they kept saying it’s a disgrace that I was sorted in Gryffindor… All Blacks so far have been Slytherins and all the respectable families we are related to are, too, and all my cousins. And I'm the first born, so I can't be a disgrace to the family name; they don't like the ideas I'm getting, familiarising with half-bloods and _mudbloods_ ” He furrowed his brow. “They want me to be just like they want, just like them… What if I am not? What if I prefer what I see here? The other option, the other way. If that makes me wrong… Well…”

-“Then you are in good company, the _wroong seeid_ is quite crowded” she said, using finger quotes to ‘wrong side’, grinning. 

This time he half laughed, half snorted at the accent imitation, looking away. Jane caught a glimpse of a shiny line on the rim of his eyes. He swallowed hard. She moved closer. She wouldn’t have expected him to open up with her, she knew he was proud so she didn’t want to make him feel like he misplaced his confidence or that she didn’t care. She _did_ care. Now she understood some of his behaviours a little better, they started to make sense. 

-“I’m sorry,- she said, -families should be supportive. Our parents and relatives should be guiding us; even if there are fights and words flying around and punishments, in the end there’s love and acceptance. They should be a safe place, a gentle hand and hugs.”

-“That sounds beautiful. Not sure I can relate, though…” his voice was lower and bittersweet. 

Not knowing what to reply to that, Jane decided not to push the discussion further. Instead, she stretched out a hand towards him. He instinctively flinched and she paused with the hand mid-air. He relaxed his shoulders a moment later, embarrassment depicted on his feature. Without thinking, she went on and laid the hand on his head. Then, very gently, she brushed his hair. His eyes went wide and he stiffened. Jane panicked inside for a second, thinking she had gone too far, but he closed his eyes, letting one single tear fall down his cheek, and leaned into the hand and towards her, placing his head on her shoulder. Jane was bewildered but said nothing. James’ words rang through her mind: the letter, his cousin, he didn’t want to talk about it… They kept calling him a disgrace… No matter the amount of mischief she may have made at home, her parents _never_ called her a disgrace or belittled her for that. Kids may misbehave at times and drive parents mad, what was so terrible? Of course something was amiss with his family. Now she understood why sometimes he acted like a snob and sometimes he was the friendliest of people. It must have been a kind of a shock to have his upbringing questioned that way. It was brave of him to stand up to his family like that.

She kept brushing his hair quietly until he spoke again:

-“I really _am_ sorry I burnt your feather. And that I made fun of your family at times.”

-“And I am sorry I mocked your accent. Won’t do it again… to you” she winked. 

-“What about the slap?” he asked, straightening.

-“That you deserved” she replied, candidly.

-“Yeah, probably” he agreed, glancing at her with a sheepish smile.

-“I guess we are even, then?” she asked.

-“Yes” he nodded.

She rubbed his arm:

-“Good… Now, shall we finish this cleaning? I’m hungry!”

He stood up and smiled. His grey eyes were bright and warmer than she had ever seen them. They set off to complete their task and thanks to good team work they were done before dinner was over. Slughorn had dozed off in his office so they didn’t wake him up but before sneaking away they made sure to dye his thick moustache pink with a simple charm. They ran to the Great Hall laughing.

-“We’ll get another detention for this!” she observed, elated.

-“What’s one more? Bring it on!” he replied with a broad, mischievous grin.   
  


A few days later, Jane’s eagle, Eire, flew into the Great Hall with two packets and dropped one in Sirius’ lap. He cast Jane an inquisitive look but she just grinned and raised her hands in a ‘who knows, don’t ask me’ gesture. The packet contained a long, glossy black feather and a note that said:

_“This is from Somerset, one of our youngest and most fearless gryphons. From what Jane says, we think it could suit you. Consider it a belated birthday present._

_The Goldfeathers”_

He looked up and when his eyes met Jane’s he flashed her a full, thankful smile. As it sometimes goes when children share punches, bloody noses and some understanding, they became good friends since.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Feel free to comment! Let me know what you think!


	3. Rachel

**Chapter 3**

**_Rachel_ **

She wakes up to the sound of her muggle alarm clock, clicks it off and lies in bed, already fully awake, staring at the ceiling. She is rested but she isn’t sure how she feels. A mix of apprehension for the day and the heaviness she has learnt to know far too well surround her, fighting with the sensation that she should be cheerful and part of her is, indeed. Nevertheless, this day is going to be emotionally challenging. She is going to make sure nobody notices, except for those who know and don’t need any explanation. She takes a deep breath, stands up and goes to check on Rachel. On tip-toes she approaches the little bed with bars that stands at the end of her own only to find it empty. For a fraction of second she feels panic rising in her throat as an automatic maternal response, then she takes a breath and calms down a little, realisation dawning on her. She goes out of her room and slowly opens the door across the corridor: there she is, sleeping in Remus’ bed, safely tucked between pillows and a heap of other cushions so she can’t roll down. Jane smiles and the weight on her stomach lifts a bit. She reaches out with a hand and gently caresses her soft, wavy black hair. One year old and she already resembles  _ him _ so much… same hair, same eyes, same shape of face… same way of sleeping like she owns the bed . Rachel had given her the strength to keep going and recover, or try to, if one could ever recover from something like that. Among all the lies and shattered lives and hopes, she had held on to the only thing she knew was real: the baby she was carrying. She was there inside her and demanded to be loved. Rachel was the result of a love Jane had so fiercely believed in. He may have lied to her and deceived her and all of them, but she didn’t. And she had never felt ashamed for having loved. She had felt broken, betrayed, angry, desperate and indescribably sad and empty, but never ashamed. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy when she decided to keep her, but she never really considered any other option and she has never regretted it. Only, it is hard to realise time is passing fast and Rachel will grow up to look unmistakably like Sirius, that is painfully clear, and she’ll soon speak and start making sense of the world and ask uncomfortable questions. And he is not there to see her. Jane is ashamed for feeling  _ this _ . It drives her mad at times. She wishes she could feel differently, but she can’t help it. She has tried many times to shake that feeling away, but she is still bleeding from that wound, it’s only been two years. Too little time for such a shock. Part of her is angrily making her way through it, slowly and stumbling, but determinate, feeding on anger and sense of revenge, part of her is still so wounded and hurting and battling with uncomfortable feelings for him. That part of her wishes he was here with her, raising their child and see her turn one, tottering around and laughing with his eyes. She knows she should hate him for what he did and although she feels something very similar to hate, it’s not so easy, it’s never all so black or white... She hates herself for not being able to wipe those feelings away and make a clean slate, for still hurting, still lying awake at night asking herself how was it possible, how could he do something like that, if he ever loved her or any of them, if there was anything real… The shock is still there. She wonders if it will ever yield and fade a bit. She tried many times to go speak to him, the Ministry always refused her pleads. She even tried to get there on her own and had nearly died. Nothing to be done. She had to do with the “evidence” and the pain of not knowing for sure. She doesn’t know what is worse. To know for sure that the man she loved is a murderer and a bastard of the worst sort or to bear the nibbling doubt that some mistake occurred and everything that it implies. Three friends dead and twelve strangers to add to the list leave hardly any room for doubt, though… Sometimes she is sure she’ll go crazy, if she’s not already done for. She feels her soul shrouded in a heavy coat of disbelief and sadness most of the time, that feeling has become a regular.

The sound of the door creaking open brings her to the present. She turns and sees Remus standing in the door frame in his light pyjamas with a mug of coffee in one hand. He smiles and gestures her to follow him. They walk into the kitchen where she finds another mug waiting for her. 

-“Thank you.” She sits down and takes a sip. “Did you sleep well?”

He shakes his head with a lopsided smile.

-“Not one bit. Ellie woke up and I found her standing in her bed charming the door of your room to swing back and forth. So I took her before she woke you up, you were sleeping so well and last time she slammed the door, so…” He shrugged.

Jane nodded.

-“I was. Thanks for taking her. This thing of charming the door… I should start to magically lock it.”

-“She might find something else to play with… like the bed sheets. We had lots of fun tonight anyway” he added, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “She kept charming anything to move or swing. She fell asleep one hour ago.”

Remus took another sip of coffee, then yawned. Jane felt a wave of affection for him rising in her throat and filling her with warmth. He had blue marks under his eyes and looked really tired. 

-“Thank you, Rem.”

-“You know you don’t need to thank me.”

She smiles. Remus saved her life. Their entire world had collapsed in one night and so they had clung to each other and took care of each other through their darkest times. They swore they would never leave each other alone. 

-“There’s only us left… We need to stay together” she had whispered in his neck at the funeral. He had hugged her tighter. They knew each other’s pain better than anyone else. Jane needed to be watched over, being in a deep state of prostration, pregnant and depressed, and he was in no better emotional state and needed extra care after the terrible transformations that followed that horrible November. Also, Jane knew he would never admit it but living alone in his cold, drab cottage in the middle of the moor wasn’t ideal to recover from a trauma and he stubbornly refuse to go live with his father, not wanting to distress his deserved quiet life. Still, they both needed all kinds of support. She insisted they moved in together, when he could he would share the expenses, when he couldn’t, it was fine anyway. So she looked for a suitable place (there was no way she would go back to her former flat. Too many memories) and found this nice house in the outskirts of Bath, which lies at a reasonable apparating distance from her parents’ place, her workplace in Cardiff and Remus’ cottage in the Welsh moor. With a little help from magic, it turned into a perfectly sized place. Remus still uses the cottage for full moons and whenever he wants some time alone. They have shifted into a sort of warm, comforting routine by now. She is grateful beyond words. Jobs are as usual a difficult topic for him but she doesn’t mind at all providing for the three of them. She has started working full time again and Rachel loves him.

-“Let’s let her sleep then- Jane says, resurfacing from her thoughts, -so she’ll be fresh for this afternoon.”

-“Yeah… Pretty princess needs rest for her b-day. What time do we have to be at your parents’?” 

-“I believe 3:30 pm is ok. We can dress her up as soon as I’m home, then we floo to my parents’.” Jane stands and places her mug in the sink. 

-“Good. We’ll be ready” he says. Jane leans in and hugs him. He nuzzles her forehead for a moment, then she lets go, gives him another smile and goes to shower. She quickly dries her hair with a spell and then she just combs it and pins the front lock back with a pin in the form of a lily flower: a gift and memory from her dear friend. She quickly dresses in a fresh, short dress, puts a pair of high sandals, grabs her purse and with a last goodbye to Remus she apparates to work.

Although the team trains and holds official ceremonies in the town of Holyhead, the executive office of the Holyhead Harpies Quidditch team is in a two storey building Cardiff. She apparates in the small room that serves that purpose only and walks straight out to the staircase that leads to the offices on the second floor. Some of her colleagues are having breakfast at the café in the hall. She quickly greets them and rushes up the stairs to the long corridor where the offices are lined, door after door. Along the stairs and on the wall between each door hang the portraits and pictures of distinguished team members. She stops half-way through the corridor. In the picture hanging on the wall, a younger Jane spins on her broomstick and waves at her. Jane looks at herself from five years before. She is dressed in her green and gold Holyhead full uniform, with helmet and gloves, her long honey-blond hair in a braid and a bold light in her amber and green eyes. She smiles broadly, happy and accomplished. The caption reads:  _ Jane “Goldie” Goldfeather, Keeper- 1978/1980. _ She had been a Keeper at Hogwarts, too, and she was good. Fresh from graduation, she entered the team and played two seasons while also fighting the war with the Order, two seasons in which the Holyhead had ruled, winning the League two years in a row with great scores and a record number of clean sheets,  _ her _ clean sheets. She had made it to history of the sport and her own team. But the war had become ruthless and she decided to quit and fully commit herself to fighting. She never had second thoughts. Often she marvels at just how much energy and strength she had, playing as a pro and fighting with the Order, at just how full of life and hope they all were. They had won the war, yes, but at what price? Far from lifting a burden off her shoulders, she feels as if the end of the war only doubled it. Unlike the majority of the wizard population, she didn’t have much to celebrate at the end of the war and she has never felt so powerful and in control like in those days when she had a purpose and so much to fight for and hopes and dreams to defend no matter what and life had to be taken one day, if not one breath, at a time, because they fought for the future, too, but this wasn’t granted to them.

This realisation always leaves her a little nostalgic. The Jane in the picture gives her the thumbs up and grins: that Jane existed not so long ago. She’s only 23 and yet, she feels so old… She shakes her head and sighs, no point in dwelling in the past. She should be grateful for her present. She takes a deep breath to dispel her gloomy thoughts and knocks on the door.

-“Come in!”

She comes in and Artemisia Davies, manager of the team and former Chaser, greets her. She is a stout woman in her fifties, with grey hair cropped short, generous bosom and large square shoulders. She is sitting behind her desk, square spectacles on the tip of her crooked nose (one Bludger too many) and a sheet of paper in one hand.

-“Jane, dear, good morning! I need your opinion: should we sue the hell out of those idiots who broke a partite of ripening potions on our delivery of Quaffles or just file a complaint?”

-“Well, Misia, it really depends on how long you want the matter to drag. We could probably save us time filing a complaint and just ask for a refund, don’t you think?” Jane leans on her desk, smiling patiently. 

The older woman frowns, her strong jaw highlights her disappointed expression:

-“I was waiting for brand new top quality Quaffles and now I have to get rid of a heap of rotting giant apples made of stinking leather. At least we should ask the courier to take them back!” She looked really outraged, Jane thought the whole matter was almost amusing.

-“Yes, we should” she says amiably. “So, how was your date last night?” 

Artemisia looks up from the papers, fixes her brown eyes on her and before answering she removes her glasses, which, attached to a thin silvery chain, land on her bosom.

-“I couldn’t say” she muses. “She said I am fun, and we had a good time, but I don’t know… I have a feeling I was a bit… too childish, maybe? I had a little too much wine and I giggled like a teenager in my opinion.” She shakes her head and sighs. 

-“Your opinion is much too severe. It’s only good that you let yourself go. Wait some time, she’ll owl you, I’m sure” Jane offers, kindly. 

-“I hope you are right, but I won’t get my hopes too up… Besides, I’m too old for these things.  _ You _ – she points Jane with the papers she is still holding, -should be the one filling me in with details of your dates! How did it go with that last Michael guy, the one from the conference…”

-“You mean the one who almost literally  _ vanished _ into the thin air at the mere mention of my having a toddler?” Jane answers lightly. The discomfort in the guy’s expression had been almost amusing. Jane is getting used to it, despite everything. Misia’s countenance drops a little.

-“Git” is her dry reply. Jane can’t but agree.

-“Speaking of the toddler in question- Jane says, -I just wanted to remind you that I’m taking the afternoon off for Rachel’s birthday and that you can come by my parents’ around 4 pm, if you manage.”

-“I remember, of course. Do as it’s best for you and I’ll be there on time. I scheduled the week around this, babe. Ellie-Goldie turns one, can’t miss it.” Misia winks at her. “Also, got her the coolest present ever. Your parents’ stand no chance.” Ever since Rachel’s birth, Misia has engaged in a friendly competition with her parents as to who spoils her more, much to Jane’s amusement and sometimes frustration. 

She rolls her eyes:

-“I know you won’t stop no matter how many times I tell you, so I hope Ellie likes it, whatever that is…”

Misia shakes her head with finality:

-“Oh, I’m sure, she’ll love it.”

Jane chuckles:

-“Fine. I’ll get to work, then. See you later.”

Misia makes a dismissive gesture with her hand, shooing her out with a good-tempered smile.

Jane exits her office feeling much less gloomy than when she entered. Misia is generally rough and can strike as stern sometimes, but she has a heart of gold. She is her mentor and sort of a second mother to her. Misia selected her for the team, trained her and they bonded quickly and their mutual trust and friendship helped Jane in many ways. When Jane decided to quit she understood her reasons and helped the Order as much as she could, even if she was never an active member. After the war, she was among the people who helped Jane recover from the multiple shocks of her friends’ deaths and betrayals with her solid, down-to-earth presence and, always keen to have her back in the team no matter what, she offered Jane her present job as head of the public relations and commercial strategy. Since the end of the war, Jane has never felt fit and energetic enough to be back in the playing team and with a child to look after she wouldn’t have been able anyway, but she’s always loved Quidditch and the Harpies and she accepted Misia’s offer gladly, as it allowed her to keep working in her field of passion. Besides, she gets to assist the trainer and train herself when things get tough and the team needs extra practice. And then, maybe, when Rachel is older, she may consider playing again… who knows. 

Her office is two doors down Misia’s, with big windows and two desks. One is hers and one is for her assistant, Emelie, who is nowhere to be seen. The paperwork on her desk is still neatly folded so that means she still hasn’t arrived. Jane knows she has two younger siblings to take care of together with her mother. Her father, a Muggle, was killed in one of the several Muggle attacks during the war. Jane is therefore quite patient with her time timetables. She sits at her desk and, retrieves the paperwork for the day from the long cabinet behind her desk, she gets down to business. Emelie arrives panting after thirty minutes, profusely apologising.

-“My brother felt sick and my mum just couldn’t be late again for work, so I stayed until the potion took effect. Really sorry, Jane.”

-“It’s fine, Millie, hope it’s nothing serious?”

-“I don’t think so, he just probably had too much candies. He had a ton of it for his birthday and I just can’t be everywhere and see everything… Found a heap of wraps under his covers…” She sags in her chair. “He’ll grow out of this sooner or later. Anyway, I felt it was safe enough to leave him with my sister.”

-“Go home earlier today if you need- Jane replies, -we are in no hurry with this work and I’m off for the afternoon anyway, so…”

-“Oh yes! Ellie’s birthday! I got her a little thing!” Emelie walks to her desk and picks a small packet from her bag.

-“Oh, you didn’t have to! Thank you!” Jane is sincerely surprised and pleased.

Emelie waves her hand:

-“It’s really a small thing… Hope she’ll like it. It’s for when she’s a bit older.”

Jane opens it and sees it’s a small, pretty bracelet with heart shaped beads.

-“Thank you so much, dear.” Jane hugs her fondly before they both sit at their desks and start work. Jane allows herself to relish the warm feeling of affection that washes over her at the thought of all the kindness that surrounds her. Misia, Emelie, Remus, her family… she looks at the two framed picture she keeps on her desk: one is an old, battered picture of her family gathered together, which they sent her at her first year at school and which she had kept as a treasure; in the other, a muggle one, she is smiling with a one month old Rachel in her arms and Remus at her side, an arm around her shoulder. They both look tired but that day on the beach had been a beautiful, bright bubble of sunlight and they had felt healing was actually possible. They had asked a random stranger with a camera to take it and he gladly obliged, mailing it to them afterwards. This is what matters, what really matters and what is now. She is lucky to have it, because she is not alone, and she can move from the past with this in mind. Taking a deep breath, she gets down to business and then manages to finish the amount of work she has scheduled for the day. 


	4. The party

**Chapter 4**   
  


_**The party** _

Jane gets home from work around 2 pm and finds Remus and Rachel in the kitchen. He is sitting next to her, feeding her the last spoonfuls of mashed potatoes. She is beating her little, food stained spoon on the top of her high chair, spattering the creamy food all around and looking very pleased with herself. Remus, on the other hand, looks somewhat vexed. When she sees Jane she squeals with delight and he takes the chance to quickly feed her the last spoon, placing it in her mouth before she realises what’s happening. She looks at him a little affronted but then swallows and turns to Jane again, smiling and babbling. 

Jane drops her bag and approaches the high chair.

-“Hi sweetie! How comes you are eating so late?”

-“Because I had to throw a tantrum over basically everything, mum. Right Ellie?” answers Remus in a scolding voice. Rachel looks at him and laughs. 

-“Did you drive uncle Moony mad? That’s bad Ellie” Jane tells her. She picks the tone in her mum’s voice and drops her smile. Then turns to Remus and stretches her arms towards him, saying: “Moo-y?”. He smiles fondly but shakes his head at her.

-“No, little one, I’m disappointed with you. If that’s an apology it comes a little too late. Besides, it’s really high time you get washed and changed. Sorry, Jane, I really wanted to be on time.”

-“No worries” says Jane, standing. She picks Rachel up but she keeps stretching towards Remus, her voice and eyes on the verge of sadness. 

-“Moo-y?”

Remus sighs and shakes his head again, a tired smile on his face.

-“Don’t ‘Moony’ me like that, little miss. It’s a trick older than you are… still works, though.” He mumbles, taking Rachel as Jane is leaning in. The toddler lights up and buries her face in Remus neck, giggling with delight. He feels his heart melt. They exchange a meaningful look but then they smile, as if on cue. They made a point of  _ not _ trying to avoid the topic at all costs and making it more uncomfortable than already is, it’s still difficult to discuss it, though, it’s awkward. But sometimes it’s just necessary otherwise things just sit in their chests and become heavier and heavier. 

-“Do you think that the ‘pestering Remus’ thing is genetic?” she asks, faking concern.

-“I start to believe so” he replies. Rachel is now putting her little hands on his face, laughing. He grabs one and tells her it’s really high time she goes back to mum. Jane takes her back but she starts to sob. 

-“Some owls came with presents, by the way” Remus informs her. He shows her the parcels on the coffee table of the living room.

-“Wow, see Ellie? Those are for you!” Jane exclaims.

Rachel studies the colourful heap of parcels for a second before starting to sob again.

-“Well, you’ll see, you’ll like them later. Who sent them?” she asks.

-“McGonagall, Andromeda and one from my father.”

-“Ok, so Minerva couldn’t make it today in the end. Pity! Andromeda said she would owl it, she’s on vacation with her family. And how sweet of Lyall! He could have come to the party!”

-“You know how he is… not really the party guy.”

-“Yes… and my father gets on his nerves, I know. I can’t say I don’t understand him. Dad can be a lot to handle. But we really should visit him soon!”

Remus nods:

-“Yes, it’s been a while. Before the next moon would be perfect.”

-“Whenever you want” Jane replies, giving Rachel the small parcel Andromeda sent. It is light enough for her to hold. She looks still cross but the noise the paper makes under her small hand fascinates her and she shakes it.

-“Want to see what it is?” asks Jane in a cheerful voice. She unwraps it in front of Rachel. It is a light but warm blanket made of Occamy feathers. Normally the size of handkerchief, it can stretch up to the size of a double bed. It’s surely an expensive item. Jane takes the card that came with it and reads:

_ Dear Jane, I’m really sorry we can’t make it for Ellie’s birthday but Ted could take his weeks off only in this time. We can have dinner or a brunch as soon as we are back. In the meantime, we wish Rachel a very happy birthday! _

_ Love,  _

_ Andromeda, Ted, Dora _

_ P.S. Stay strong _

There were butterflies and stars drawn all around the ‘happy birthday’ and Dora’s name was signed in bright pink letters. She smiled at that and for the post scriptum. Andromeda was always kind and supportive to her, having endured some of the misfortunes that had befallen Jane, like the wrath of the Black family. She shakes the memory away and hopes, with a slight shiver, that nothing happens that day. No old, bad witch showing up uninvited to curse her precious child. She knows it all looks like a real life version of  _ The Sleeping Beauty _ but it’s no fairy tail to her, unfortunately. Those people  _ are _ genuinely deranged. She sighs, she’s probably exaggerating anyway.

-“Ok, ok, it’s time to change.” Jane gently takes the blanket from Rachel’s hand. “Let’s go.” The baby protests with loud sounds. Her mother ignores her tantrums and brings her to the bathroom. Having managed to wash a now silent and frowning Rachel, she dresses her with a wizard robe she bought for the occasion. It’s a sober shade of orange with silver and golden embroideries. Jane prefers muggle clothes but her parents and relatives will be pleased to see her in a robe on such an occasion.

-“There will be a cake, you know Ellie? And pictures! Will you smile in pictures? Show me how you smile!”

Rachel looks at Jane for a moment, undecided, then smiles, waving her hands about. 

-“That’s it, right so! Stop being grumpy. Uncle Moony will be there, too.” Jane picks her up and kisses both her cheeks, making her laugh. 

When Remus is ready too, they gather the presents and floo to her parents’ place. It’s a big, country house in north Somerset, in an area of several muggle nature reserves, surrounded by hills and moors and not too distant from the sea. It’s a perfect place to breed herds of hippogriffs and set up hiding charms for the gryphons.

Her mother greets them in the living room where they arrive through the huge fireplace.

-“Hello, my darlings!” Ethel Goldfeather has a broad, kind smile and her big, hazel eyes are still bright and keen. Her grey hair is waist-long and neatly braided in her usual, long braid. She warmly hugs Remus and then kisses Jane on the forehead before taking Rachel up in her arms. 

-“Hello you little pumpkin! Happy birthday! Merlin, you are one year old, already!”

Her father comes out of the kitchen and greets them with his booming voice:

-“If that isn’t my sweet little eagle there! And the smaller one, too!” 

Robert Goldfeather is still tall and stout. His curly, wiry hair only has some streaks of grey in it but his beard is grizzled. He reminds of a less fat, more muscular version of Santa Claus. He crushes Jane in a hug, lifting her off the floor a little, then gives Remus a pat on the shoulder that bends him forward.

-“Hello there, young man! Everything ok? Or my girls are driving you mad?”

Remus straightens up, choking, and rasps:

-“I’m fine, thank you Robert. I try my best.”

-“Sure you do. Enjoy the little one before she grows claws!” replies Robert.

-“Robert, dear, you know we are people, not birds of prey” Ethel admonishes him. “Come, we arranged the back garden for the party, it’s such a sweet day!” She gestures them to follow.

The back garden is huge and it borders the stables and the fields where the hippogriffs are. On the left side of the house there is a big patch of land where Robert grows vegetable and on the right side some wild bushes and shrubbery.

Just outside the porch, on the grass they have set up a gazebo with benches, a table full of food, snacks and glasses. There are jugs of water, lemonade, pumpkin juice and a bottle of sparkling wine, all enchanted to stay chilly. The gazebo is decorated with garlands of green and pink ribbons and flowers hanging all around the room, their petals open and close, some of them blow out little glittery soap bubbles every now and then. There are also white and blue butterflies flying around. The floor and the grass outside are scattered with big coloured balloons that bounce softly up and down when people pass by. There are several big garden umbrellas around the garden so people can sit or stand in the shade. Ethel show the garlands to a very excited Rachel, then puts her down on the grass. She stands there a moment, then she sits down to play with the balloons, laughing. 

-“She is really cute in that robe, dear, nice choice” says Ethel. Jane smiles, pleased.

-“Thank you for all of this, mum, it’s really …a lot.”

-“It’s nothing, dear. What grandparents would we be if we didn’t spoil our grandchild?” says Ethel. She moves for the gazebo. “Have something to drink, it’s really warm.” 

Jane pours herself a glass of lemonade and one for Remus, who is kneeling in the grass near Rachel. She makes the glass hover to Remus with a flick of her wand then sits on a bench next to her mother. 

-“How are things going with Remus?” 

Ethel has always not very secretly hoped that she would end up with Remus. She liked him at once the first time she met him when they were twelve, coming home from their first year at Hogwarts (“Such a sweet, polite boy!). She didn’t change her mind even when Jane told her he was a werewolf; a little to her surprise, after that news her affection for him hadn’t faltered a bit. If possible, it had doubled. To her initial disappointment, Jane had fallen for Sirius, “the wild one” as she used to call him, but she used to be fond of him, too. For some time she has not dared approach the love topic, but Jane now suspects she has started hoping again that Jane would finally settle on Remus. 

-“As well as they always have, mum. Nothing has changed. We are still best friends. We are still not getting together.”

Ethel chuckles:

-“Who knows… there’s time enough.”

-“Mum!- Jane rolls her eyes, but can’t help laughing a bit. “Give it up! It’s not going to happen! And to change topic, who are we expecting? I told you to invite family only…” She casts a concerned look at the amount of food and the rows of glasses on the table.

-“And I did! It’s just your aunt and uncle and all your cousins with their families. I just prefer being on the safe side with everything. Who did you invite?”

-“Well, Misia, of course. I also sent a card to McGonagall, but she couldn’t make it. She sent a present, though. Very sweet. So did Andromeda. Lyall also sent a present, he couldn’t make it, too.” She lies. 

In that moment her cousin Ifan enters the garden with his wife Amelia and their daughter Charlotte, who is one year older than Rachel. They live in a cottage at walking distance from the house, for Ifan is the one who now helps her father with the farm and the sanctuary. Charlotte runs to her and throws herself in her open arms, laughing.

-“My little butterfly!” Jane hugs her, kissing her cheeks. Charlotte is wearing a pair of iridescent magical butterfly wings on her nice dress who flutter every now and then. She proudly shows them to Jane and Ethel then she runs for the balloons where Rachel is sitting. Ifan comes and hugs Jane, lifting her off the ground. He is the tallest in the family and her favourite cousin, although she can’t say it out loud.

-“Hullo, little cousin! How are you? How’s work?”

-“All right, all right. Getting ready to start the new season.”

-“This one is going well, ain’t it?”

-“If the last matches go well, we should end up fourth in the ranking. We did our best all season, but someone was better…”

-“If you mean the Puddlemere…”

-“Ifan, dear, let’s not discuss Quidditch all day, shall we?” Amelia pats him lightly on the shoulder and smiles. Jane can’t say she doesn’t like Amelia, but she’s always had troubles feeling completely at ease with her. Née Macmillan, she is always kind and proper but somewhat stiff, distant and slightly haughty, not as much as other purebloods, not as, say, the Malfoys or the Blacks, but she definitely strikes as somewhat too refined for a loud, hearty family like the Goldfeathers. How she and Ifan get along so well is a mystery to her, but they do. They are so good together it is almost painful to watch them, at times. Ethel starts handing out drinks and Jane remains under the gazebo with Amelia, chatting lightly about their children and watching their girls play. Charlotte runs around kicking the balloons while Rachel claps her hands squeaking with delight. Aunt Chesten and uncle Derwyn arrive after a while with Michael and Edward and Misia enters the garden soon after, apologising for the delay. In no time Robert puts a glass of whisky in her hand (“Robert, is way too early for this, don’t you think?” “It’s a celebration, Misia, come on!”) and Jane mentally notes to pay attention the two don’t get drunk by cake-time.

A couple of hours later, the garden is buzzing with chatters, the shrills of Charlotte and Rachel and the snoring of Devon, who entered the yard surely drawn by the noise and went to lay under the shade of the gazebo where he dozed off soon after. The food trays have been properly charmed to float around so people can pick from them as they pass by, the umbrellas are a blessing because the July sun is shining in all its glory and everyone seems to enjoy themselves.

Her father is holding Rachel in his lap and trying to get her say his name. Rachel looks amused by his voice and laughs or babbles and claps her hands but she doesn’t repeat back, as she usually does. Jane has a suspect she actually enjoys driving Robert mad.

-“Come on, love, I know you can! Say  _ grandpa _ ! Graaaaad-paaa!” he articulates.

Rachels gurgles happily and pulls at his beard. 

-“No, listen- he tries again, -grand-pa!”

-“Aaaaa” is the prompt answer.

Misia is laughing herself to tears:

-“Oh, Merlin, I love her! I’m sure she can say Misia. Can you, sweetheart? Mi-sia”

-“Miii-a!” repeats Rachel, with a louder pitch on the final  _ a _ that she must find extremely funny because she laughs soon after. Misia is delighted. 

-“This is ridiculous!” Robert protests. Rachel lounges onto his chest and pulls at his beard again. “Oh, but you love me, don’t you? Yeah, me too, pumpkin. One day you’ll say it: grandpa, grandpa, grandpa!” and he swings around while holding her.

-“I think we can take the cake out, what do you say?” Jane asks Ethel, who is sitting in the shade with Chesten. Remus is under another umbrella, engrossed in a conversation with Michael, Edward and Derwyn.

-“Yes, yes, I think it’s time, before your father gets any louder” Ethel says.

-“Or tipsier…” adds Jane. 

So they go to retrieve the big ice-cream cake with fresh berries and cookie crumbs with a single purple candle on it from the kitchen and they bring it in the garden. All the family gathers under the gazebo and Jane picks Rachel up and holds her while she stands on her feet in front of it. Michael is in charge of the pictures and after a bit of shifting and switching places they are just about to set the camera when a low growl makes them turn. Devon is crossing the garden and slowly approaching them, stretching his huge wings.

-“There you are!” Robert greets him. “You took your time, uh? Old rock, come up!”

Devon arrives and sits on his hind legs, towering over them all. He keeps his wings half-open and makes a snapping sound.

-“All right, Devon, you can stay right there!” declares Michael, giving the gryphon a thumb up. “Good, all say cheese!” Michael darts to his place and at the flick of his wand the camera starts taking a set of pictures. When it’s over they scatter around the table. 

-“Let’s light that candle!” Edward prompts.

-“Wait just a moment, please” says Jane and she turns to Devon and pats him on the forehead with affection. The gryphon is almost a hundred years old now, his mane is all white and there’s a lot of white hair speckling the original tawny coat. His golden eyes have become glassy, one is almost completely bleared and he is thin and weak. He may not have many years left to live and Jane is grateful he could be there today, it’s a bit like having her grandpa Kenver with them and Devon is no less a member of the family anyway. 

-“Devon, this is Rachel, remember her? She turns one today!” she holds Rachel up to his gaze. Rachel is silent and looks intently at the animal, but shows no sign of fear. Devon leans in and sniffs her hair, then starts purring deep. Everyone goes silent. They watch as Devon slowly lifts one of his front legs and gently, ever so gently, touches Rachel between her eyes, with the back of one long, sharp claw. Jane holds her breath all the while. Kenver used to do that gesture with her and her cousins as an affectionate salute. He often told them about the time he spent in India among the mages and clairvoyants of that land to study their magic and divination abilities. It was there that he learnt to communicate with different beings. Indian mages believed that was where the eye of the mind resides, a centre of extrasensory, magical energy that goes beyond the physical reality and connects to other layers of understanding.

Showing no fear whatsoever, when Devon lowers his paw she leans towards him and roughly squeezes her face on his beak with a high pitched giggle. He lets her. A general  _ aaw  _ resounds and all the Goldfeathers exchange a knowing look. 

Jane knows Devon is safe around children, he’s been a companion to all of them since they were born; it’s that gesture that reminds her of her grandpa that makes her emotional. It’s almost a proof they were and still are linked, through that magic Kenver used to believe in.

-“If that’s not old Kenver there, I don’t know what else it could be” says Derwyn, patting Robert on his shoulder. Robert nods in approval, his eyes misty.

-“A toast to Rachel, Grandpa and Devon!” exclaims Edward, raising a glass. 

-“To Rachel and family!” echoes Ifan. 

They all toast and cheer and finally they light up the small candle and sing  _ Happy Birthday  _ to Rachel, who is totally fascinated by the small flame. Before the song is over and Jane can blow it out, she reaches for the flame and tries to grab it. Jane is just not quick enough to stop her. A piercing shriek of pain and few moments later Rachel is bawling in Jane’s arms while Ethel rubs an ointment on her little hand and Remus tries to cheer her up with soothing words together with her mum.

-“There, there, it’s nothing” mutters Jane, lulling her. “Have some cake, everyone! Don’t worry, Ellie just learnt that fire burns!”

After some more lulling, sweet words from everyone and rubbing from granny, Rachel stops crying and Jane declares it’s time for present opening. Michael takes a couple of picture to Rachel standing in the grass and looking still rather upset and somewhat mistrustful. Despite the cause for it, she is quite funny to see. Jane grins heartily with her in her lap and starts to unwrap. McGonagall has sent her a very nice set of bodysuits with animals and Quidditch patterns that should fit her during the coming year; Lyall got her a little magical night light, a globe with a small glowing unicorn in it. The unicorn moves and when it rears its head Rachel chuckles happily. 

Remus got her an illustrated book with words to learn that utters them out loud and spells them. It starts from the alphabet and the child is supposed to repeat after the book. The illustrations are of course animated. It’s brilliant and Jane thanks him affectionately. Her cousins all together have bought her many new clothes and shoes, for which Jane is really grateful. Rachel constantly grows out of her clothes and Jane struggles a bit to keep the pace. Also, it doesn’t help that she never had a knack for tailoring charms. They received nice books for children and bedtime stories from aunt Chesten and uncle Derwyn, included a new illustrated edition of the  _ Tales of Beedle the Bard _ . Misia’s gift and her parents’ one are the last of the heap. She glances at Misia, who nods with a smirk and Jane goes to pick it. It’s a heavy rectangular packet, quite big. She starts to tear the paper and she freezes as soon as she catches a glimpse of the image on the box. It’s a toy broomstick. Just like the one Sirius chose for Harry’s first birthday. Sirius was so decided. She remembers they had run late, with the mess of the war and the Order duties and missions, and their relationship was on a strain for all that, they didn’t see each other so much but they had made a point of buying the present together as godparents and found a day to go and buy it. They were so glad to know little Harry just loved it.

It’s not the time nor the place to have a breakdown, nor does Misia deserve it in any way, because she just had no idea. It  _ is _ , indeed, a great present for Rachel, one she would have found the nerve or the piece of mind to buy her herself, sooner or later. Just right now it comes a little as slap in the face and she does her best to quickly recover, take a deep breath and turn to her friend with an excited face. 

-“Misia, this is great! Thank you!” she says, with teary eyes that her friend can easily take for gratitude. Which she actually feels beyond words. She hugs the older woman tight and keeps thanking her.

-“The little one has a reserved place in the team” Misia jokes, smiling proudly.

-“You won’t steal another one of my girls, Misia, keep your hands off!” Robert scolds, cheerfully. “But I’ll admit it’s a good one. Not as good as ours, though!”

-“We’ll see to that” Misia replies, raising her glass and winking. 

When she gets to her parents’ wrap, Jane feels momentarily relieved to see it’s a parcel the size of shoe-box (it can’t be anything too weird with that size, right?), but then she notices the box has little holes in it and she starts worrying. She turns to her father and mother and they smirk.

-“What on earth…” she begins to say.

-“Just open it, dear” Ethel says, smiling. “I’m sure she’ll love it. Misia, I’m sorry, but you stand no chance” she adds, nudging friendly at the other woman.

-“Well, judging from the size of it, I doubt it” 

-“Never judge from the size, Misia, never” says Robert, winking.

-“That may get back at you, you know Rob?” Misia shoots back with an amiable smile.

-“Nah, I’ve got nothing to complain. I’m quite proud of my manhood…”

-“Nobody gives a toss about your manhood, Robert” Ethel cuts in, her mouth tight.

-“Wifey! Of all people, you should!” exclaims Robert, faking astonishment.

-“That was a long time ago, before you got old and grumpy” replied Ethel.

-“That’s not what you seemed to think last night” retorted her husband, nudging her.

-“Shall we go back to presents, please?” pleaded Jane, covering her ears and shutting her eyes at the mental image her parents suggested.

Ignoring their playful bickering, Jane starts tearing at the paper with Rachel, who tries to imitate her. The box reveals a round, fluffy fur ball the size of a grapefruit. The fur is the colour of custard cream and it has round, blue eyes.

-“A Puffskein?” Jane should have seen this coming. No member of the family has gone long without an animal of any sort at their side. She and her cousins had cats and eagles, Devon always around them and then an hippogriff each when they got older. A Puffskein is as demanding as an ornament. She had feared it could be something more… Goldfeather.

-“The baby had to have an animal” explained her father.

-“And as we know you have… much on your plate already” continued Ethel with a vague gesture, “we thought a Puffskein would be the perfect choice.”

-“That is until she grows a bit and can train her first eagle” adds Robert.

Jane hugs them both, fighting back the tears. How lucky she is to have such a wonderful family. She crouches down near Rachel who is staring intently at the fur ball in the box. Gently, very gently, the baby stretches out a hand and caresses the Puffskein, which starts humming at once, eyes half-closed with satisfaction. Rachel laughs happily.

-“Graan…PA!” she says, uttering the last syllable with a loud, popping sound that sends her into a fit of laughter. 

All eyes fix on her and she repeats, stroking the Puffskein:

-“Graaaaan…PA! Graan…PAA!”. Then rolls down with laughter, holding the little animal up to her neck and nuzzling it. 

Robert goes and scoots her up in his arms:

-“I  _ knew  _ you could say it! Grandpa, grandpa!”

-“I’m sure she means the Puffskein, Uncle” comments Edward with a grin.

-“Yeah” says Ifan to Jane. “You should name the Skein ‘Grandpa’. Just to make him mad.”

Jane lights up:

-“Ifan, Ed,  _ you  _ are fucking geniuses.”

Her gloomy thoughts are drowned in the sunlight for the rest of the afternoon by the laughter, the chatter and the affection all around her.

Later in the evening Jane lies brooding on the huge couch in her parents’ living room, with Rachel sleeping on her chest, her little head on her bosom. Remus has gone home earlier with some of the presents, hoping to catch up with some sleep, while Jane has remained to help clean up and spend some more time with her family. Now that everything is tidy and the day is over, she starts feeling tired. It’s the emotions and that melancholy creeping back, the knot in her throat that threatens to make her burst into tears as soon as she can lay down all the defences she put up. It’s already quite hard as it is, Misia’s present was just the drop that spilled the cup. As long as it is a generalised feeling, she can maybe avoid it if she tries hard enough, but such a precise detail from the past just made it all more solid and it hit like a sharp rock. Rachel’s first birthday, one year in this now peaceful world. A peace that cost too much. And he doesn’t even know she exists. It pains her that this bothers her so much. He probably wouldn’t give a fuck about her, same as with Harry. So much for the bloody broomstick. And little Harry… he’s almost two now. He and Rachel could have been growing up together… Merlin, she hates these train of thoughts. She feels so stupid, so hurt, so sick. And then, unable to stop them, come other memories: the memories of his laughter, his bright eyes, his hands on her, his lips, his hair in her fingers… Why? Why us? Fuck, fuck him… She starts sobbing. She doesn’t know what to do with such a feeling. 

-“Jane, dear, are you all right?” Ethel sits down on the edge of the couch, her features worried. Jane shakes her head, fighting back tears. 

-“Is it him?” 

Jane nods. She takes Rachel and gently lays her on the cushions, still asleep, and goes to sit on the carpet, with her head against her mother’s knees. 

-“I miss him, mum. And I hate it. It’s not… right.” Her voice is quivering.

-“You need time, dear.”

-“It’s been two years!”

-“Not nearly long enough, Jane. Give yourself more time. You are still grieving.”

-“I don’t want it, I don’t want this. I hate it. I hate him. I’m sick of hurting like this.”

-“That’s what will help you heal, eventually. You may not feel it, but it’s happening, even now.”

Jane swallows hard, the knot in her throat tighter:

-“No, I don’t feel it.”

Ethel gently strokes her hair.

-“Give it time. Today was a meaningful day. Of course you will always be forced to think about him on such occasions. And one day Rachel will ask about her father, then you’ll have to tell her the truth.” Jane looks up to interrupt her but Ethel raises a hand to prevent her. “ _ One day _ , when it will be necessary, when she’s old enough, I know. What I mean is that you can’t erase him from your memory and life, and you will hurt every time. But slowly, with time, it will start to hurt less, and you will feel the change, not on these occasions maybe, but on ordinary days, when you least expect it.”

Jane thinks back to that day on the beach with Remus. That was probably the first time she had actually  _ seen _ the sunlight, letting it fill her after one year of darkness. That marked a beginning of some sort. Has she improved since then? She isn’t sure. Maybe Ethel is right. She needs much more time. She shouldn’t feel like she failed at some healing competition she made up in her mind just because she had a breakdown today. She leans back on her mother’s legs and starts crying freely in her lap. As if reading her thoughts, Ethel whispers, cradling her head:

-“Be gentle on yourself, dear. Nobody just snaps out of these things.”

As she lies awake in her bed at home, some time later, Rachel sleeping in her crib, she reminds herself to have patience, to be strong but she can’t help remembering that she had once imagined this day in a very different fashion, with him. Together. Because eventually they  _ would  _ have overcome their issues after the war. It was that pressure and general mistrust that kept them distant. But the same was happening with all of their friends. Voices of a spy… Nobody trusted each other that much anymore… They were losing friends, losing the war. They had started to suspect of Remus, who was always away on missions Merlin-knew-where with werewolves. She didn’t want to believe it, but they couldn’t cross out any possibility at that point. Still, she fought them fiercely over Remus’ innocence. James, Sirius, all of them. The only one who seemed to share her outrage at the idea was Lily. How could they hope to win if they were so strained and divided, suspect crawling among them like a poisonous haze. She knew it could have been Sirius, Peter, Remus or Dorcas, anyone. “It could be me!” she had yelled during a fight. “I know!” he had shouted back, angry. But she was sure they would have been able to leave it all behind once the war was over. That is, if he hadn’t turned out to be the traitor. Gods, what an actor.

“When this is over... we make out of this alive... you are mine. I want to spend the rest of my days with you” he said that night. She believed him. The war ended a mere three weeks later. They  _ did  _ make out of it alive. Only he was a murderer and would spend the rest of his days in Azkaban. And she was pregnant. What a fool she was.

It’s a shame magic can’t cure bleeding souls. Only time can. She silently cries herself to sleep.


	5. Interlude- Let's Hurt Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some smut coming, I feel I should say this =) 
> 
> And again, thank you so much for reading!

**Interlude-** **_Let’s hurt tonight_ ** **_(One Republic)_ **

_ “So you hit the lights and I'll lock the doors _ _   
_ _ Let's say all of the things that we couldn't before _ _   
_ _ Won't walk away, won't roll my eyes _ _   
_ _ They say love is pain, well darling, let's hurt tonight _ _   
_ _ If this love is pain, then honey let's love tonight” _

  
She was crying on her couch, convulsively wringing and twitching the loose sleeves of her over-size jumper, one that Sirius left at her place so many times that she took it for herself. It gave little comfort now anyway, these news were too bad. Dorcas… little, fierce Dorcas, dead. Killed by Voldemort himself. She couldn’t stop thinking at her smile, couldn’t bring herself to breath evenly. This was too dreadful, atrocious. Marlene, Fabian and Gid, Benjy… now Dory. Lily, James and little Harry in constant danger… All of them were. What if the next was Sirius? Or Remus or Pete… Their families were targets, too. She couldn’t stand it. And with the new security measures and missions they didn’t get to see each other that much anymore, communicating with Patronuses only if it was extremely necessary. 

She hadn’t seen him in almost ten days. They had fought again last time, over the suspicion of a spy in the Order. She refused to suspect of Remus but at this point they had to suspect of everyone, even of themselves. Still, she felt like she had to prove a point. What a useless, foolish thing… It seemed that fighting was all they were able to do these days. Fighting dark wizards, fighting between themselves, fighting the fucking world. She hated it. And now Dorcas was gone, too. Poor Dory… She hoped he got her message. Just wanted to let him know she was alive, safe, for now. Just that. She had wanted to add that she missed him, needed to see him, but resisted the urge. She wondered if there was any point at all now, if it was of any use, to keep from saying words, feelings, to hold on grudges… They may die at any time…

She heard the door lock unlatch and jumped out of the couch, standing in the living room, wand ready. Very few friends could reach her threshold with all the safety charms working on the building; few friends or skilled enemies. The door opened and he stood in the frame, fatigue written all over his features and his eyes rimmed red, with one hand raised and the other pointing his wand right at her.

-“What song was playing the first time we made love?” she asked out, her voice husky but steady.

-“None. We were out in the moors near your place” he answered, no hesitation in his voice. “What kind of tree was there near the stream in the dream we shared?” he asked at his turn, eyes fixed on her.

She didn’t falter:

-“A willow tree.”

They both lowered their wands. With a single look they took each other in, her puffed jade eyes, her bare feet and tousled hair, the tears on her cheeks; his grey eyes rimmed red, his tired, pinched face, unshaven. Understanding flowed through their gazes, then something else flickered between them and they crossed the room at the same time, crashing in each other’s arms in a hungry, eager kiss. He was safe, unharmed. She felt so relieved. Missed him so much, needed him.

_ “Sorry for what I said, it wasn’t really me speaking. This war is taking on me. I love you, I love you, I love you. _ ”

His hands on her back, he lifted her off her feet. She instantly wrapped her legs around him, never leaving his lips, her hands in his hair and on his face. Without breaking the kiss, he walked blindly to the long chest of drawers right behind her and, shoving away whatever stood on it with an arm, laid her on top of it. A lamp and several books went crashing to the ground. He reached for her hair and pulled it backwards, exposing her neck and went to bite at her pulse. A moan caught in her throat and she pushed him closer to her with her legs, still wrapped around his hips. His hands slipped beneath her jumper and slid it upwards, tossing it to the floor. His hands burned on her skin. He wrestled out of his jacket and she quickly pulled his shirt up. He let go of her just the time for the shirt to be removed then he bent down to kiss her cleavage. Her hands travelled down his chest along his flat, toned stomach and hooked at the hem of his trousers. He yanked her bra down and immediately cupped both her breasts in his palms, kneading hard at them. She went to nibble at his collarbone and he roughly sucked one of her nipples. She was a hype of tension and need, she could feel his arousal on her thigh, all she needed was the feel of him on her, in her, his scent on her skin. You fight death with life, and fuck they were alive, alive.

_ “I love you, I’m sorry I snapped, I’m sorry I said those things to you.” _

He clawed at her sweat pants and knickers and pulled them down her legs, in a heartbeat his mouth was at her slit, his tongue sliding in and out of her wet folds, sending shivers of want along her spine. She sighed. He moved up to kiss her again, a wild, deep kiss. 

_ “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of those things. I can’t lose you, too. Forgive me.” _

She went at his fly and unzipped it. The moment he was free of his trunks he reached out for the small of her back and pushed her towards the tip of his cock. With one slow but steady thrust he was in her. Eyes shut, he laid his head on her shoulder, breathing hard, savouring the intimacy. These moments in which he stripped bare of defences and exposed himself completely to her, these moments were the most endearing to her.

_ “I needed you so badly…” _

Taking a deep breath he kissed her neck, pulling her hair up in his hands. He thrust deeper in her, sheathing himself in her to his full length. A low, hoarse sound escaping his lips. She stroke the length of his back. 

-“Yes…” she murmured, almost a whisper. He thrust again, lifting her legs to wrap them again around his hips. She coiled around him, wanting him deeper as he built a steady pace that sent them both closer to their edge. She bit at his shoulder, mind blank. Suddenly he stopped and without pulling out, lifted her off the chest of drawer and laid her down on her back on the couch. Stretching fully on top of her, he resumed his pace, thrusting harder. She was wound tight and it wasn’t long until she came hard around him, pleasure rippling along her body. He paced with her spasms and came soon after her, shutting his eyes.

Jolts of pleasure running through him, he lay on top of her, still buried inside her, his forehead pressed on hers, eyes shut.

-“Sirius…” was the only word that escaped her lips while another thousand were crowding in her mind. She knew he could feel her tears in her voice.

_ “I love you. Let’s not fight anymore. I want you. I missed you. I don’t want to go on like this. I’d give my life for you. Are we ok? We’ve been so distant…” _

He pushed back on his elbows and tilted her chin up. Their eyes locked. She could get lost in those stormy eyes. She saw he had wept, too, but there was no sadness in his eyes now, but a burning determination.

-“When this is over… we make out of this alive… you are mine. I want to spend the rest of my days with you.” 


End file.
